Was That The Day

Was that the day, that in a while, we all will say:
that was the day that came and went in just a fleeting,
the moment when I gave my little girl away.
That day, we carried off so well, will take some beating.

How did it start then, from the moment of your meeting,
a hint that this relationship was never fey,
the clues lay in the courtesy of his first greeting.
Was that the day, that in a while, we all will say:

were we endeared to see him in his field of play;
was it his badinage that we mistook for bleating,
that led us to believe, in some special way,
that was the day that came and went in just a fleeting;

a moment when the dress and you, all eyes were treating,
in slo-mo then, your arm on mine, we made our way.
Our friends and family saw, from that perfect seating,
the moment when I gave my little girl away.

From ceremony to a celebration that was so gay,
When you were both so fleet of foot on dance floor sheeting
We, in awe, but you with confidence can say
that day, we carried off so well, will take some beating.

From so many of the guests their gifts, and greeting
that each one of them has proffered and to say:
how bright your stars, how warm the sun on this great meeting.
When we have spent some time reflecting, cry hooray!

Was that the day!

© 2010 John Anstie

(View the Author’s commentary on this poem)